I used to think dating a younger woman would be problematic and boy was I wrong. It’s not problematic, it’s pure HELL. When I was 18, fresh out of high school, I was living in Redding, California along with my family. Still unclear as to what I wanted to do with my life, I dedicated my whole summer to playing Diablo online, not really thinking about my future, but spending every waking moment fantasizing about my next door neighbor who was a few years younger than me. I always thought to myself “Damn it, Jake. One day you’re going to find a nice job, get settled, come back, and marry that girl.”
I left for college a few months later and I never saw her again, until a few years later. She was 21, and I was a few years older. She had suddenly mutated into a cross between Scarlett Johansen and Jennifer Lopez, the next-door-neighbor version. She had always been the sweetest girl you’ve ever met, and everyone knew her as “Sweet old Sally” around the block. She used to babysit my brothers and I’ve always thought she’d grow up to be one beautiful woman, but I was wrong. She grew up to be one disgustingly sexy beast. She had also picked up some moves along the way. No longer was she this shy, mousy little babysitting neighbor who used to stare across the room and bite the dry skin off her lips, while awkwardly sitting on the couch’s armrest.